


Peter Waiting

by orphan_account



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Creeper Peter, Cruelty, Fantasy Sex, Hurt Stiles Stilinski, M/M, Rape Fantasy, Rape/Non-con Elements, Stakeout
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-11
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-17 15:14:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29352537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: While stuck with Stiles on a stakeout watching the alpha pack, Peter imagines what he'd rather be doing...
Relationships: Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 1
Kudos: 49





	Peter Waiting

Peter shifted in his seat. The alphas were camped out in an ugly abandoned building out in the industrial part of town. It was just visible from the raised hill where Stiles had parked the jeep. Surrounded by trees on the furthest edge of the preserve, they watched the alphas’ hideout. It was pointless. He could just hear them babbling in the distance, their feeble plans, Deucalion’s pathetic and overblown sense of self worth. He sighed.

In the driver’s seat Stiles was fidgeting. His leg bounced on the car floor. His fingers tapped against the steering wheel. His twitchy little movements were starting to get on Peter’s nerves. He ground his teeth in the quite of the car and watched Stiles’ throat bob as he swallowed. He tracked the little movement with his eyes. Peter could imagine it. It wouldn’t even be difficult. One simple movement, he’d stretch out his hand and place his claws underneath Stiles’ jaw. Let the razor tips of his fingers press lightly against the pale fragile skin, just hard enough prick and sting. Finally, finally, Stiles would go still. “Get into the back Stiles.” Peter would gesture with his chin to the back seat, watch the colour drain out of the boy’s face. But with complete control over Stiles’ ability to breath, he’d have no choice but to clamber into the back seat over the console and Peter would follow. 

In the back with a wide-eyed Stiles, Peter would start. There’d be a kiss, not too forceful, not rushed or too drawn out. Just the hot press of Peter’s mouth against Stiles’ lax lips. “Peter I- I don’t…” He’d push at Peter’s chest, but Peter would only press closer. He’d shut down any further protest with a quick slap. Stiles would be too scared to move, he’d shake, silent and terrified while Peter’s hands slid under his clothes- No. 

No, perhaps not… that wasn’t quite right. Stiles wouldn’t go still and silent. He would fight and scream. Maybe when he felt Peter’s claws against his throat he’d try to run. Stiles would shove the driver’s side door open and make a break for it. Scrambling out of the car and onto the forest floor. He’d start running and Peter would let him. Following quietly through the trees, watching the brat’s wild race deeper into the forest of the preserve. Oh, he’d let Stiles run and run and run until he exhausted himself and the second he looked back to check for his pursuer, Peter would tackle him from the side.   
They’d hit the ground together and Stiles would struggle like a wounded animal in a trap. But Peter would still him with a few blows and Stiles would lie on the forest floor dazed and desperate. And then… well then Peter would have to decide what to do next. He was strong enough to keep Stiles there as long as he wanted to. Maybe he’d slow right down, work Stiles all the way up while he squirmed and gasped into the open air. 

Stiles glanced over a Peter and found the wolf looking at him. “What?”

“Oh nothing.” 

Stiles rolled his eyes, “Aren’t you supposed to be focused on the alphas?” Peter smirked.

Maybe he wouldn’t go so slow after all. He’d shove Stiles’ face into the grass. Stiles’ shaking arms and flexing shoulders wouldn’t be enough to push Peter off him. Peter’s weight against Stiles’ back would keep him down while harsh claws tore through his shirt and jeans. He’d strip him down to nothing. He imagined the feel of the nape of Stiles’ neck against his lips, teeth just sharp enough to remind Stiles they were there. He’d listen to Stiles cry, gasp, and sob beneath him and when he finally broke his way into Stiles, the brat would scream. And that wasn’t negotiable. It wouldn’t matter how long he took, the build up was irrelevant, that moment would be too much. That moment of powerlessness and panic and pain. He’d let Stiles scream because Stiles wouldn’t be able to do anything else. Peter would be purposeful; he’d dig his claws into soft skin and leave long lines of red hurt. He could leave scars. The kind that would last for the rest of Stiles’ life. Somewhere obvious, somewhere that he’d have to look at every morning and every night. He’d leave his mark, permanently. 

…And then Derek would kill him. Properly this time, so there would be no coming back. No, Peter looked at Stiles profile across from him in the driver’s seat. He could wait…


End file.
